


Don't Tell Sam

by mannybothans



Series: Don't Tell Sam [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Blow Jobs, Brother-Sister Relationships, F/M, Kink, Lawyer Sam, No Incest, Oral Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Porn Without Plot, Roommates, Sibling Kink, Smut, Spanking, Taboo, Vaginal Fingering, Voyeurism, alternate universe winchesters, dom!Dean, jerking off, non-blood siblings, sibling dynamics, spanking as punishment, sub!Reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-29
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2020-02-09 21:13:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18646216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mannybothans/pseuds/mannybothans
Summary: You (female reader) have lived with the Winchesters for awhile, now. They've taken on brotherly roles in your life and that's just fine - except the older brother is unreasonably attractive. You've managed to keep your cool around him, but what happens when Dean gives in to temptation?





	Don't Tell Sam

“Listen, sister,” Dean scolded, his voice dropping the way it usually did when he was angry or annoyed.

“Don’t ‘sister’ me, Winchester!” You interrupted, not in the mood to deal with his condescension. “I may live with you, but we’re not related. And _you_ don’t get to tell _me_ how to live my life.”

Dean dropped his head as his grip on the chair back grew tighter. He’d had enough of your sass and frankly didn’t know what else to do or say to make you listen. He was right – he was always right – and why you couldn’t see that, he didn’t know. He just assumed you were _that_ stubborn. But now he knew that ‘sister’ was even more provoking than ‘sweetheart,’ and Dean Winchester always took the ammo he was handed.

You were already walking away when he lifted his gaze and it locked on your swinging hips and round ass that was barely covered by a tiny miniskirt. “Fine, I won’t give you advice ever again,” he bellowed right as you slammed out the front door.

Sam poked his head around the corner as if to check if the coast was clear. When he saw no sign of you, he shot his brother a displeased look. “You need to stop arguing with her about everything.”

“She lives under this roof! She should listen to me!”

“Yeah but she’s not our actual sister, Dean. You can’t just tell her what to do all the time.”

“She’s part of this family, Sammy, and I’m in charge!”

Sam scoffed lightly and rolled his eyes, grabbing an apple before he exited the kitchen again. “Good luck with that,” he called out and Dean shot a withering glare at his brother’s back.

Once out of the house, you took a deep breath and bit back a frustrated scream. Ever since you’d moved in with the Winchesters, they treated you like a sister. Sam was more respectful, especially when it came to your personal life and choices you made for yourself. Sure, you went to him for advice on occasion, but he never offered it unsolicited. Not like Dean did almost constantly. Dean was boisterous and bossy, which got under your skin because he was so damn hot. The way his green eyes would darken whenever he argued with you and the way his voice dropped when he was angry just made your skin crawl in more ways than one. You shouldn’t be sexually attracted to someone who’d been nothing but a brother to you, but here you were.

You growled your discontentment, instead, and went on your way. It wasn’t fair that Dean was trying to stop you from dating Gabriel – what did he know, anyway?! They weren’t close friends. He barely knew the guy and yet he’d just acted like you going out with another man would start the next World War.

 _I’ll show him,_ you thought.

**

Gabriel was nice and all, but he wasn’t Dean. He was charming, funny, and flirtatious, but all you could think about was Dean growling out, _listen, sister_.

The night ended and Gabe, as if he sensed you weren’t into him, politely kissed your hand. “I had a great time tonight, kitten, but you seem preoccupied.”

“Wh- what? I do?” You asked, trying to feign ignorance even as a blush crept up your neck and cheeks.

“Yeah. Listen, if it doesn’t work out with the other person, you have my number. Take care.” He leaned up, kissed you on the cheek, and bid you a good night.

You sat still for a long moment, utterly flabbergasted at his ability to see right through you. Were you really that transparent? Or was Gabe just really good at reading between the lines? Either way, you headed home, sulking for a few minutes before getting it together. Dean could never know that Gabe rejected _you._ He’d probably beat Gabe’s ass or threaten his life or both.

By the time you got back to the house, you swung the door open and plastered a wide smile on your face. Dean was sitting in the living room, watching some action movie you were sure he’d seen at least a hundred times already.

“Heya, Deano!” You called out, putting as much sunshine into your voice as you could.

He frowned, looking over at you. “So the date went well?”

“It sure did! I’m gonna see him again next week,” you lied.

Dean’s frown deepened for a split second as you turned your back to close the door. He straightened his face by the time you spun around. “Good for you, _sis_ ,” he said flatly.

You chose to ignore him, despite how his voice made you feel, and bounded up the stairs.

You sat in your room with the door cracked, got on your laptop, and surfed social media for a little while. A soft knock on your door drew your attention and you glanced up to see Dean poke his head into your room.

“Hey, sis, can you help me with something right quick?”

You rolled your eyes at the moniker he refused to drop but swung your legs off your bed anyway. “Sure, what’s up?”

“I think my chapstick fell behind the dryer and your arms are smaller than mine. I was hoping you could grab it.”

Your eyes narrowed at him for a moment but you shrugged and hopped up, still in your date clothes. “Okay, whatever.” Dean lead the way down the hall to the washer and dryer and you hummed and then tried to look behind it. “I can’t see anything,” you said. “It’s too dark.” Dean flipped on the light and you nodded, peering around the back of the dryer once more. You thought you saw something chapstick-like back there, so you tried to reach it and came up just a little short. “I can’t reach it.” You smoothed down your skirt, hoping it wasn’t hiked up to give Dean a free show.

“Try, uh, try from the other side.” Dean rubbed a hand over his mouth. Your skirt had hitched up enough to show the undersides of your ass and he’d been staring, transfixed. The whole time you’d lived with them, he’d convinced himself to see you as nothing more than just a “bratty” little sister. And now he was having some entirely un-brotherly thoughts about you and it made him feel _dirty_ – especially since he wanted more.

You switched sides and knelt down, trying to hold your skirt in place with one hand as you contorted your other arm to reach behind the dryer. “I still can’t reach it,” you announced. “Maybe if I,” you let go of your skirt and reached back there again with the hand that had been holding your skirt down and Dean bit back a groan as it hiked up enough for him to see the bottom swell of your cheeks. And the fact you were wearing a thong. He felt his cock twitch in his pants and glanced away, clearing his throat.

“It’s fine, I’ll uh, I’ll buy another one.”

“Oh. Okay. Sorry,” you replied, sitting back on your heels before standing up and tugging your skirt down again.

“You uh, you might wanna get a longer skirt,” he tossed out as he walked away.

Your face instantly turned bright red and you covered your ass with your hands as the idea that he’d been staring at you sank in. “Maybe don’t stare at my ass!” You sputtered. “Perv!” Turned on and ashamed all at the same time, you ran back to your room and slammed the door.

**

The next day, Saturday, Sam got called into his office by a client and that meant you and Dean were at home alone, together, and you didn’t know how to handle it. Your brain wouldn’t shut up, trying to determine if he’d purposely looked at your ass yesterday or if it was an accident. Did he enjoy it? Did he feel wrong about it? When you finally emerged from your room in just a pair of cotton shorts and a tank top, Dean was outside detailing his car in only a pair of jeans. He didn’t even have shoes on. You watched from the window for much longer than you’d intended, absolutely entranced by his muscles flexing in his shoulders and back as he carefully waxed his Baby. As if he sensed your presence, Dean looked up at the window and you quickly backed away and went into the kitchen to get something to eat.

You were picking up the sandwich you’d just made when Dean strolled in, pulling a plain tee shirt over his head. Your eyes dropped to his abs before he covered up and then you quickly looked away.

“Makin’ a sandwich, huh? Mind makin’ me one, sis?”

“Make your own,” you mumbled, taking a bite and moving to leave the kitchen. It was hard enough being under the same roof as Dean the past couple days, there was no way you could be in the same room for more than a minute.

Dean’s lips twitched into a smirk and he stepped directly in your path. It’d been awhile since he really got to mess with you and he wasn’t about to waste the perfect opportunity. He snatched the sandwich from your unsuspecting hand with ease and took a giant bite out of it. Your mouth fell open in shock as you watched him unabashedly steal your lunch.

“Dean!” You shouted, trying to grab your sandwich back from him. He easily held you back with one arm as you scrambled to try and reach it. “Give it back!”

“Nope,” he shook his head and took another massive bite, effectively halving it. “This is delicious,” he said around a mouthful. Dean hoped you’d shout his name again and tried to shake that thought away. The suddenness of his ability to see you as someone other than his sister was making him question why he’d ever looked at you like that to begin with.

Frowning, you gave up fighting him and spun around, stomping back to the fridge to pull out more stuff for another sandwich. “Asshole,” you muttered as you bent over to grab the vegetables. Dean’s eyes trailed down your back to your ass once again as he thoughtfully chewed. The cotton shorts you wore hugged your hips and ass and the non-brotherly thoughts once again invaded his mind. But this time, he didn’t try to push them aside. You weren’t his sister and it was natural to find certain aspects of the female form arousing. Angry with him, you decided to keep your back to him as you threw together another sandwich. You thought you could feel his gaze on you, but you honestly didn’t want to check. If you caught Dean staring at you, again, you might lose your composure.

“So, what’re you doing the rest of the day?” He asked after a long silence, just as you bent over to put everything away for the second time. “Oh, can you grab me a beer while you’re in there?” He added as you stood up. Rolling your eyes, you bent over again and grabbed a beer – but it wasn’t for him. You shut the fridge with your hip and grabbed your sandwich, finally turning around. Dean didn’t even bother to hide it as his eyes briefly dropped to your chest before resting on your face again.

 _Staying the hell away from you_ , you thought. He was blatantly checking you out and it was making you feel some type of way. “Ignoring your dumb ass,” you fired just before taking a bite of your second sandwich. Dean had moved behind the counter, so he wasn’t in your way when you marched out of the kitchen, beer and sandwich in-hand, and retreated back to your room where you could eat in peace.

“That was my beer!” He called after you but made no move to chase you down.

“That was my sandwich!” You shouted back, hurrying up the stairs to your room where you slammed the door shut yet again.

Dean leaned against the counter, not sure how he felt about getting a semi just watching you bend over. He replayed the scenario from yesterday of you trying to demurely hold your skirt down as you tried to retrieve his chapstick and felt his cock twitch. He frowned and looked down at himself – that needed to be taken care of.

You finished your lunch, downed your beer, and decided to shower. Maybe your girl friends would be up to go out for the evening; get you out of this house and away from Dean Winchester’s pervy gaze. Truth was, though, it was turning you on so much thinking about him checking you out. It felt so taboo to think of him sexually when you’d only seen him as an older brother type for so long. But he was making no effort to hide his glances, which you should be grossed out about or yell at him for, and yet here you were – not really so much grossed out as wondering how far he’d take it.

You were so caught up in your thoughts as you showered that you didn’t notice the door open a crack. Dean stood on the other side, watching your foggy reflection as you showered. He didn’t intend to spy but he’d walked by and heard the shower running and damn, if he just didn’t want a peek. The way the frosted glass of the shower door blurred your body and hid details from his prying eyes only turned him on more. Dean unbuckled his belt and unzipped his jeans, and pulled out his hardening cock. He’d never spied on anyone before, not like this, but the thrill of getting caught made him rock hard, especially since you were the last person he should be watching. He spit into his hand and began stroking himself while watching you wash your hair. He imagined you secretly knew he was there as your hands soaped your breasts and stomach. Then he imagined you catching him, your jaw dropping in half-disgust and half-surprise at the sight of him fisting his dick. Next, he imagined stepping into the shower with you, even as you yelled at him for being gross and then shoving his cock into your wet cunt. In his mind, your shouts were replaced by moans of pleasure as he filled you again and again, whispering all the nasty things he wanted to do to you, _sis_. Dean groaned softly and came into his hand, then retreated to his bedroom to clean up and change his clothes.

You heard a weird noise and cocked your head, listening for a repeat over the shower running. Tentatively, you called out, “Dean?” No response. “Sam? Is that you?” No response to that, either. When you exited the shower, you toweled off and then noticed the door was cracked open. Frowning, you wondered if you ever shut it to begin with. It wasn’t like you to leave the door open, especially if the brothers were home. An uneasy thought briefly crossed your mind of Dean spying on you – surely, even if he’d been acting strange, he wouldn’t… right? You shook off the thought and went to your room to get dressed.

The weather was finally starting to turn towards summer, so you put on a short denim skirt and your favorite crop top and decided to stay in your room, away from Dean. A couple hours later, some of your friends finally decided to text you back and you started making plans to get out of the house. Maybe you could find someone to hook up with to release some of the pent-up frustration you had, too. Instead of talking directly to Dean about your plans, you texted the brothers on a group message.

_Hey guys, I’m going out with the girls tonight._

Sam replied first: _sounds good. When will you be back?_

Dean replied next: _it’s your night to make dinner, y/n_  
Y: _well you ate my lunch so I guess that means I’m off dinner duty, dean. Idk sam, I’ll text when I do._  
SW: _sounds good & dean wtf_  
DW: _that doesn’t let you off the hook_  
SW: _dean don’t be a dick_  
Y: _yeah dean, don’t be a dick_

You were glad that Sam had your back on this; it felt like things were going back to your normal sibling-esque routine. Until Dean let himself into your room without warning.

“Dean, what the fuck?! What if I was naked?” You stuttered angrily, standing up from your bed where you’d been on your laptop. It was the only defense you could think of. “You can’t just barge in here!”

“I can because it’s my house,” he countered, folding his arms over his chest as his eyes raked down your body. “You’re going out in that?”

“It’s hot outside,” you said drily. “Besides, you’re not my dad.”

 _Thank fucking god,_ Dean thought as he briefly thought back to jacking off while watching you shower. “No, but I am the oldest of this household, _sister_ , and it’s your night to cook.”

“You. Ate. My. Lunch. So, make your own dinner.” You fired back, putting a hand on your hip and almost snarling at him.

“We all have a list of chores that we adhere to, no matter what,” Dean argued. “The same goes for you, princess.”

“Oh, really?! How many times have you ‘worked late’ in order to get out of doing dishes or cleaning the kitchen? You can’t enforce the rules whenever you see fit!” His green eyes were boring into you, making you feel smaller than you’d felt in a long time and you hated it. You hated how it felt like he could see right through you, read all your thoughts and see how you really felt about him. Grabbing your shoes and purse, you brushed by him to leave – and then he grabbed your elbow. “Dean, I swear to god,” you began.

“I’ve had enough of your sass, sister,” he almost growled. “If you’re gonna live under my roof, you’re gonna follow my rules,” he said firmly, pulling you back towards him when you tried to free your arm from his grip. Suddenly, your back was flush against his chest and you forgot how to breathe. Panicking inwardly, you weren’t sure if he planned to hurt you or just yell at you, so you braced yourself and prepared to run the first chance you got and dropped your belongings.

“What the fuck’s gotten into you, Dean?” You gritted out. “Let go of me!”

“You’ve gotten into me, _sister,_ ” he said deeply. “All this back talk and sass is really starting to get on my nerves. I think you need to learn a lesson about your mouth.”

“I’m sorry, okay?” You didn’t really mean it; you just wanted to get away from him because being pressed against him was making you weak in the knees. The way he was talking into your ear, with his voice all low and dangerous was also doing something to you – something you’d never admit and would take to your grave. “There’s no need for all of this,” you continued, growing desperate to get out of his hold before you said or did something stupid.

“Stop telling me what I need,” he ground out, his grip tightening on your arm just above your elbow. Then he stepped back and sat on your bed, pulling you with him. You stumbled, just barely off-balance enough for him to catch you and force you across his lap. He’d considered spanking you for breaking the rules like this before, but he knew you weren’t his to punish. Whatever dark and twisted thing had come over him in the last twenty-four hours was undeniable, now. He was going to spank you and just the idea of it sent a thrill up his spine.

“Dean!” You squealed, your face turning red at the sudden realization of what he was going to do. “Dean, don’t,” you warned, wiggling against his strong grasp. Surely, he wouldn’t.

“Promise you won’t sass me?”

“I promise,” you gritted out, squeezing your eyes shut.

“I don’t believe you,” he replied and landed a firm smack to the back of your thighs. It stung deliciously and you kept your eyes tightly shut, only allowing a small gasp to escape. “I want a real apology.”

“And I want a Corvette,” you spat back and were instantly rewarded with another, harder smack, this time to your denim-clad ass. You yelped; no matter how much you tried to convince yourself there was nothing sexual about this, you were getting turned on.

“See, there’s that sass again, _sister_ ,” Dean shook his head. You tried to push yourself off his lap and he grabbed your wrists, holding them together at the small of your back. “You get spanked for resisting, too,” he explained. He rubbed a hand over your ass, exercising all of his willpower to not squeeze your cheeks, then landed an even harder smack.

“Dean, please,” you gasped as the stinging slaps began radiating heat. “I’m sorry, I am,” you tried, a little bit of a plea in your voice. It was humiliating and lewd all at once and you were just thankful Sam wasn’t here to hear you beg.

“You’ve been such a bad girl, sis,” he lowered his voice, rubbing his hand firmly over your cheeks before landing another hard smack. He loved the way his hand sounded against your ass, the way your cheeks jiggled with every slap, how you tried to arch away from him.

“Wanna fill me in on the details?” You fired back, too worked up to think straight. It was either talk back or beg for more, which you couldn’t bring yourself to do. Dean was your non-blood _brother_ , for Christ’s sake.

“That _mouth_ ,” he replied, shoving your skirt up out of his way before giving a smack to each separate cheek. “Jesus, that sass,” he gritted out. “Your refusal to do chores.” _Smack_. “Your ignoring Sam’s requests for groceries.” _Smack._ “Ignoring _my_ requests for groceries.” _Smack._ “Paying rent three days late.” _Smack_. “Not cleaning up after yourself.” _Smack._ “Not listening to me.” _Smack_. His cock was hard, now, and even as Dean tried to fight against taking this too far, something within pushed him further. He couldn’t get the image of your naked body out of his head and that, combined with your light blue panties, edged with lace surrounded by reddening flesh, drove him on, too.

Tears stung your eyes as your body reacted in several different ways. You’d been spanked before – during sex – but never like this. His fingers trailed down the back of your thigh and up the other one and you almost shivered with how much you wanted to feel him sink his thick digits into your wet pussy. “Dean, please, I’m sorry. I’ll listen to you, I’ll pay rent on time, I’ll do my chores and get your gross kale and pie from the store next time it’s my turn,” god, you really couldn’t help yourself, could you?

 _SMACK_.

That one was aimed at the juncture of your thighs and his palm landed heavily against your cunt. You let out a gasping moan and the jig was up. Dean froze, wondering if he’d really just heard you make that sound and you froze, too, wondering how to explain away what sounded uncompromisingly sexual. He knew what he was doing when he started spanking you, but he thought that twisted bit of darkness within him was only on his end. And now, undeniably, he knew it was in you, too.

“Y/n,” he said your name lowly, firmly, almost as a warning. You shut your eyes, shaking your head vigorously to deny everything he was going to suggest. “Is this turning you on?” He asked it anyway, already knowing your answer.

“Dean, you’re disgusting!” You spat out, almost shaking with humiliation that was permeating your entire body. You wanted him to do it again, to slap your cunt until you came. Your mind filled with filth about how he could use his tongue and lips and then fill you with his cock and it was _shameful_.

Instead of answering, he landed one, two, three solid smacks to your ass and you yelped with each one. “Me? I’m disgusting?” He asked darkly. “C’mon, sis, admit you’re enjoying this.”

“N-no,” you shook your head again, torn between crying from shame and begging him for more.

Dean clicked his tongue. “Alright then. If you’re not enjoying it, then,” he trailed off as his hand gently began rubbing the back of your thigh, his thumb teasing the edge of your panties. “I guess I’ve made my point.”

 _Don’t say it, don’t fucking say it, don’t, god, don’t –_ “Which is?!” Oh, your mouth. Your fucking filterless mouth, giving yourself away so easily.

“So close, sis,” he said, shaking his head slowly. But he knew – he knew you were egging him on. That you wanted more and couldn’t bring yourself to say it because you _shouldn’t_ want more. He took aim and slapped your thighs again, making sure to land his fingertips right across your cunt.

You moaned again, louder this time, and knew there was no going back or denying it.

 “I think we need a safe word,” Dean said lowly, brushing his knuckles gently against your folds, sending jolts of pleasure through you. “Since you can’t tell me how much you’re fucking loving this. Say ‘red,’ and I’ll stop.”

“Dean,” you breathed, not wanting him to stop. No matter how wrong it felt or sinful it was to keep going, you wanted him.

 “Okay then,” he nodded, though you couldn’t see it. “Should I continue with the spankings?”

A soft whine escaped you. You wanted him to do whatever it was he wanted, just so long as he was touching you.

“Is that a yes?” he smirked wider, pushing his thumb into the crotch of your panties where he found a noticeable dampness. You let out a deep, shuddering breath as he pushed his thumb against your folds and you pushed back into his touch. “Such a bad girl,” he repeated, murmuring. “You got wet from being spanked. So fucking dirty.”

“Fuck,” you whimpered. “Please, Dean.”

“Hm? You want more?” He rumbled and pushed your underwear aside, sliding his thumb easily into your wet, tight hole. “Gonna beg like a good girl?”

“I – Dean – I, no, this is wrong,” you sputtered, imagining the utter horror on Sam’s face if he were to find out.

 “So wrong,” Dean agreed, slowly withdrawing his thumb before pushing it back in with a soft groan. He couldn’t believe how wet you were for him. If only he’d spanked you years ago... “You want me to stop, just say ‘red.’ I’ll stop.”

You shook your head vigorously and he pumped his thumb faster, watching it disappear into your panties again and again. “Oh, god,” you sighed. “Please. Please, just don’t tell Sam.”

Dean withdrew his thumb, let go of your wrists, and grasped the waistband of your panties. “Let’s get these off.” Slowly, he tugged them down your red ass and pink thighs, groaning softly at your exposed, wet pussy. You felt like you should tell him to stop, that you could still pretend this never happened and never pick a fight with him ever again. “Say ‘yellow’ if you need me to slow down,” Dean instructed. “And ‘green’ is all good, okay? So, no matter how many times you say ‘stop’ or ‘no,’ unless you use a color, I won’t stop.” It was as if he read your mind about feeling the need to tell him to stop and you nodded your understanding. “Say okay if you understand.”

“Okay, Dean,” you said.

“C’mere,” he guided you into kneeling next to him and he stood up, palming himself through his jeans while he moved around you. Your eyes fell to his hand and you swallowed, trying to imagine what it would be like in your mouth. “Later, princess,” he assured you. “I’ll make sure you get a mouthful of this cock later.”

You forced your gaze back to his face. His eyes were dark, his pupils fully blown with lust, and his lips glistened from just being licked. He was gorgeous, absolutely and utterly stunning. He reached behind his head and pulled his t-shirt off, tossing it to the floor like it belonged there. Dean then climbed onto the bed behind you. You pushed your hips back against him, your skirt still hiked up, without even thinking about it. “Dean,” you sighed his name and he bent his neck and began kissing your neck, brushing your hair aside with one hand. The other one rested on your shoulder and then dropped down your arm, his fingers grazing the side of your breast, and came to a stop on your hip under your skirt. His teeth and tongue nipped at your neck and you moaned softly, pushing back against him more, able to feel his hard cock through the denim barrier. “Dean, fuck,” you moaned as he rutted into you.

“Yeah, sis,” he rumbled just before his tongue caressed the shell of your ear. His other hand buried itself in your hair and he gave a small tug, pleased at the gasping moan it elicited from you. “Mm, you like that?” He did it again and you moaned, louder. Dean smirked and his hand on your hip slipped between your legs. His thick middle finger dove between your folds and he groaned lowly, getting the full picture of just how wet you were.

His touch was electrifying and you arched your back, needing more. You wondered what his reaction would be if you returned the sibling moniker. “I want your fingers inside me, brother.”

Sure enough, Dean groaned so deeply that it was almost a growl. “So fucking dirty,” he murmured, licking a wide stripe up your neck as he sank his middle finger into your cunt. “Like this?”

“Yeah,” you gasped. “God, that feels so good, big brother.”

“Fuck,” he replied, rutting harder into you. “Nasty girl, got me so fucking hard.” He added another finger, sinking it into your core as you moaned louder for him. “Don’t you dare fucking come, yet,” he warned.

“Dean, I can’t,” you panted, wanting one thing and one thing only. “I need you. Please, fuck me.”

“Yeah? You need your brother to fuck your brains out?”

“Please,” you whined as he slammed his fingers into your cunt again and again. Suddenly, his fingers stilled and crooked against the soft spot inside your pussy. “Please, please, Dean,” you begged, twisting your hips and grinding onto his fingers, desperate for release.

“Love hearing you beg for it, sis,” he gritted out as he hastily undid his belt and jeans with his free hand. He pulled his cock out and guided it between your legs. “Fuck, I’m gonna wreck you,” he murmured. “Bend over, baby girl.”

You fell onto your hands, your entire body thrumming with need as he sank his thick, hard length into your core until his hips were flush with yours. “Fuck! Dean!” Your eyes closed and head dropped at the unbelievable feeling of him filling you completely.

“Color,” he demanded.

“More,” you sighed, rocking back against him.

“Color,” he demanded again, taking a fistful of your hair and grabbing it tightly.

“Green! Green, green!” You cried out and he let go of your hair. Dean gripped your hips and pulled his back until just the tip was left inside of you. He made the most sinful noise and then rammed forward until his hips hit your ass; you grabbed fistfuls of your bed covers to brace yourself as he worked up to a brutal pace. All you could do was make unintelligible, breathy noises.

“Fuck, so fuckin’ good,” he muttered while pounding into you. The effort it took to stay on your knees was no match for how hard he fucked you and soon you collapsed onto your elbows. Dean grunted and adjusted his angle, pulling your hips back to fuck you into the mattress. “Wanted to do this for so long, sis.” He let go of one hip and wound up a startlingly solid slap to your still-stinging left ass cheek. “Color?”

“Green!” You cried out in response, loving everything he was giving to you and only wanting more. Unable to form even a single coherent thought, you just took it and moaned loudly.

“Don’t come until I say. Got that? Gonna come when big brother says?” His question gave you chills and yet you didn’t even take a moment to second-guess yourself. He felt too good, like you were made to fit him, and you knew he’d get you there like nobody had ever done before.

“Dean, please, please, I wanna come,” you begged, pushing back against him as his hips slowed. Dean worked a hand under your pelvis and immediately found your clit with his eager fingertips.

“Wanna hear you scream,” he panted. “Come all over this cock like a good girl. When I say.”

“Y-yes, Dean,” you cried out, hurtling towards that point of no return with the added stimulation. Your shoulders were screaming with the effort of bracing yourself against his pounding, but you were _so_ close. “Fuck, ‘m gonna come,” you gritted through your teeth as your muscles began to tighten in preparation for the release.

“Dean?” Sam’s voice carried through the house as the front door slammed shut and Dean’s hips instantly stilled. His cock was buried in your cunt and you bit back a whine as his fingers danced across your clit. “Dean, you home?”

“Yeah, Sam,” he called back and you panicked, not sure if you wanted to scramble away from him and get dressed or let him keep on with the chance of getting caught. “Be down in a minute!” You decided to stay – the added thrill of Sam catching his older brother pounding you into the mattress turned you on more than you could rationalize.

“Is Y/n out with her friends?”

“Uh, I don’t know. I think she’s in her room,” Dean replied and you could almost hear his smirk. “Come for me, sis,” he whispered. “Come on this cock. Don’t make a sound or Sam’ll know what a dirty girl you are.”

You slapped a hand over your mouth to keep any involuntary sounds from escaping and Dean slammed into you once, twice, three times, and stayed fully seated while he played with your clit. You wanted to scream, wanted to cry out and let Dean’s name fall from your lips reverently, but instead you held it in and experienced one of the most intense orgasms of your entire life. Your entire body trembled as your pussy clamped down on his cock again and again.

Dean groaned, loudly, and you exhaled sharply into your hand – that was it, that was how you were going to get caught.

“You alright, man?” Sam asked from downstairs. His voice sounded so much closer and you knew he was standing right at the bottom of the stairs.

“Uhh, just stubbed my toe,” Dean grunted out; to his credit, he sounded pained. “Fuck,” he added, shaking with the effort to not paint your insides white.

“Kay…” Sam’s voice trailed off and you could only imagine the suspicious looks he was throwing up the stairs.

Dean pulled out of you when you finally came down from your orgasm and lurched forward, grabbing a fistful of your hair. It was all you could do to not yelp as he pulled your head back and twisted you around until you sat on your shins facing him. “Open up,” he mouthed and you did, still blissed out from the most intense climax you could remember having. His dick, coated in your slick, slid into your mouth and you closed your lips around him as he guided your head back and forth on his length. “So good, sis,” he muttered so low that you almost didn’t hear him. You willed your gag reflex to fuck off even as your eyes watered and throat began to protest. He pushed his cock further in and you grabbed his hips, letting out a soft whimper. “Gonna come in your filthy mouth,” he whispered and that time you did hear him. He pulled back just enough and then his come – salty and unique – coated your tongue. You swallowed all of it, happily.

Then Dean did the most surprising thing of the day – he gathered you into his arms, pulled you flush against him, and claimed your mouth with his. You swallowed a moan, afraid to even make the slightest noise lest Sam hear it, when Dean’s tongue pushed past your lips and swept through your mouth. He combed his fingers gently through your hair and then caressed your ass, soothing the slight sting that remained. His touch was so soft, so gentle that it gave you goose bumps.

“Such a good girl,” he whispered against your lips.

“Hey, man, you want a beer?” Sam spoke up again and you froze as Dean smirked.

“Yeah, thanks,” he shouted back over his shoulder. “Now, who do you belong to?” He lowered his voice again, tilting his head to nuzzle your jaw.

“You,” you whispered back.

“Mmhmm,” Dean nodded, gently nipping your neck. “Now get dressed. You can tell Sam you were taking a nap. This can stay our little secret, okay?”

You nodded and Dean tucked himself into his boxers and pulled up his pants, refastening them before buckling his belt. He threw you a wink as he picked up his shirt. Then he left your bedroom and you sank down onto your bed, biting back a whimper as he gently shut your door.

You didn’t know how you were going to look Sam in the eye ever again.

 

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! (part 2? probably)


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